Friday, 26 April 2013

In which a culture vulture meets a vulture

Vulture – non-culture variety.

Amsterdam
has a reputation – quite a reputation, come to that. With its red light
district and its grey cafés, it is, in the minds of some, the very model of a
modern Sodom and Gomorrah; to others, a pleasure palace.

It has
been said that those two aspects of the city are impossible to escape from, even
in a limited visit: but that is either a rather wild exaggeration or a somewhat
Freudian interpretation, depending on your own analysis.

Now, in
the interests of clarity: I have never spent time in one of the grey cafés,
but I have smoked the odd joint and have no problem with that aspect of
Amsterdam. Equally, I’ve spent time – on my own – in the red light district
too, and the only thing that nearly freaked me out was the sight of two of
Mother Teresa’s nuns heading in my direction.

So this
is not some sort of puritanical, crusading piece against that part of the
city’s existence. In the posts about this part of my spring break, there will
simply be an attempt to rectify that myth and broaden horizons.

If it is
simplistic to describe Lübeck as “terrifyingly cultured”, then it’s equally
simplistic to portray Amsterdam in a way that forgets hugely significant
aspects of its culture.

In
keeping with the first leg of this trip, there was to be no shortage of
delights for a culture vulture abroad. I had pre-booked tickets for the
Rijksmuseum, which was due to reopen after a 10-year restoration/refurbishment
just a few days before my arrival, and also for an evening at the
Concertgebouw, the city's magnificent concert hall. And more of those in
following posts.

But Wednesday
dawned bright and mild, and we decided to head to Artis, the city’s zoo.

Short for
Natura Artis Magistra (itself, Latin for
‘Nature is the teacher of art’), Artis was founded in 1838.

Kookaburra

The main entrance bears
the name above it, but ‘Artis’ was the word above the central gate. It was the
one that was most often open, and thus people looked up and saw this one word –
and the zoo became known by that word.

In addition to the zoo
itself, the site also houses a planetarium, zoological and geological museums
and an aquarium, plus a substantial library – all of which declares it’s
educative qualifications.

We’d
never visited before and the size of it proved a surprise – for some reason –
presumably the general size of a grachtenhuis
in the Centrum – I’d expected it to be small and not much more than a
children’s petting zoo.

It’s
light years from that.

We
started at one of the old buildings, just near the planetarium, where there
were birds outside and inside, some monkeys.

Having
wandered along the outer enclosures, we headed in. I hadn’t spotted the signs
saying that there were loose animals beyond the doors, so it was an even bigger
surprise to walk into a tropical forest and find a large, blue bird wandering
around.

The
surprises were only about to begin, though, as a monkey swung past nearby and
we spotted three little, apparently rodent-like creatures chasing past thought
the plants.

Guinea fowl. 'Are you lookin' at me?'

I have
never seen such small monkeys – and being able to see them so near, without
glass or Perspex or wire between you is utterly astonishing. Judging by the
smile on the face of one of the keepers, having clocked my own grin, such a
response is frequent.

As we moved through the different parts of this house, we came across a group of guinea fowl toddling around. One, though, was determined that anyone who came near must, by dint of bird-brained logic, be in possession of food.'Is that camera food? I bet that camera's food really,' it seemed to be demanding as it headed straight for me.

It was four
years ago, in Berlin, that I really ‘discovered’ zoos as an adult – not least
for the purposes of photography.

Chimp and baby.

There, the
specific revelations had included vultures, which I had never imagined I would
find remotely interesting, but, having made eye contact with a king vulture, I
now find them awesome, and was delighted that Amsterdam had a number of European Griffon vultures.

In fact,
on that trip, I’d found myself far more interested in several of the birds than
I had expected – and here things started well with a delightful pair of kookaburras.

The
meerkats, as always, delighted, with chances to observe (and snap) their
lookout behaviour.

Half a
dozen small turtles proved excellent models for a couple of pictures, as did a
camel that looked at me with the sort of expression that could have come
straight from one of the grey cafés.

But on
this trip, special pleasures awaited in the form of baby animals.

First,
there were a pair of baby maras curled up together outside a little burrow, with
a trio of older ones watching on carefully. They had been born only the weekend previously, but are so developed that they can sometimes graze within a day of birth.

Then, in
the gorilla enclosure, a magnificent silverback was leading his troupe in a
charge around as they waited to go inside for dinner: we spotted at least three
babies on their mothers’ backs.

But
perhaps the most glorious of these treats came watching a chimpanzee sitting on
a large trunk, poking a stick into a hole in search of insects, and all the
time holding her sleeping baby in her other arm. He or she had such an old
little face.

The question from a photographic perspective became not simply getting the shot, but trying to avoid the flare on the windows of the enclosure. Some shots were better than others – and Photoshop can then help further.

It’s one
thing to see such sights on the television: it’s entirely another to see them
in the flesh.

Zoos are
still a contentious idea for some people, but good ones – like this and Berlin –
have enormously important roles to play in terms of conservation and education.

Turtles

In terms
of the latter: yes, you can see so much on television – and in the UK, we’ve
been blessed to have David Attenborough and the BBC wildlife unit at Bristol
educating us for many years.

But I
offer my own changed view on vultures as an example of the difference that
seeing in the flesh can make.And indeed, a couple of years after that, we
spotted and were able to identify a Lammergeier over Foix in the French Pyrenees.

And here,
we watched as two vultures tore apart a dead rabbit, with a much larger carcass
close by.

For all
the cuteness, nature is truly red in tooth and claw.

There were, of course, plenty of herons around – you can't avoid them in Amsterdam, and they're wonderful to see. And flowers in full colour offered a pleasure that perhaps might be less so in other when, by this time of year, we'd have seen plenty.

Sculpture of a young chimp.

But one other thing I really liked about Artis were the sculptures that can be seen throughout the grounds.There are some that clearly date back many years, but others that are far more modern.

That
evening, we headed for Kop van Jut, one of a trio of eateries in the touristy
food streets around the Leidseplein, that actually serve Dutch food.

Oh, you
can find Argentinian and Uruguayan steaks aplenty, and there is no shortage of
those thin frites and burgers and dogs, plus a few Indonesian restaurants – the
culinary legacy of the Netherlands’ imperial history – but little in that area
that provides Dutch cooking.

Most
people would probably struggle to think of a Dutch dish, but in keeping with
the sort of culinary links that I mentioned in terms of lobskaus, there are plenty here too.

For
instance, Erwtensoep is simply a
version of pea and ham soup – the Germans have one too (erbsensuppe), while the
Scandinavians have artsoppa, a pea
soup.

Stamppot is a dish made with mashed potato, which is added to vegetables
and sometimes also bacon: colcannon or bubble and squeak, anyone?

Anyway,
we’d dined at Jut van Kop some years ago and thought it well worth a return.

I ordered
cod with spinach, beans and a sort of pesto dressing: fairly typical
Northern European ingredients, with a rather more southern twist thrown in, and all done rather well.And it came with a
large serving of handcut chips – with homemade mayo on the side.

That’s a
filthy little habit that I picked up in Amsterdam years ago and is now my go-to
condiment for chips.

The Other
Half had two small (but not that small) soles.

And, for
dessert, ice cream.

The menu was far shorter than we remembered, but that's no bad thing. The staff were almost taking youthfulness to the point of frightening. And it had never really struck me as the sort of establishment that would ask you to 'like' on Facebook (although I have done that). It's a changing world.

It had been a very enjoyable day – and I offer it up
as early evidence in my case that Amsterdam is not simply Sodom and Gomorrah:
unless you want it to be, of course.

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About Me

London-based journalist, writer, photographer and artist, with one Other Half and three cats.
This blog is about all sorts of things, but mostly reviews. My interests include comics and opera (and even comic opera), cats, tattoos and art.
100% personal. Non-PC. No 'party line'.
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